


Breakpoint

by Jarakrisafis



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Drug Use, M/M, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-31
Updated: 2011-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-23 23:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jarakrisafis/pseuds/Jarakrisafis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vortex really does like his job, especially when they bring him new toys to play with...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Breakpoint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vortex really does like his job, especially when they bring him new toys to play with.

These are the ones I like. Silent. Strong. They are a true challenge. Not like the usual mechs that are brought to me, all flashing optics and loud affirmations that they will tell me nothing. No, they break far too easily. A little pain and they will tell me anything I ever wanted to know just to get it to stop.

But this one, I run a hand over a smooth white plate. Its owner doesn’t even flinch and I smile, the sort of smile sane mechs would run from. This will take much longer since physical pain alone won’t break one trained to withstand it. But every mech has a breaking point. Every processor has a weak point. The harder it is to find, the more fun in getting to it. Jazz’s boys are always fun. He trains them so well. But breaking a mind is much better than breaking a chassis.

My hand roams further, over the finely crafted helm and back down to a shoulder where I rest it as he watches my every move. He knows what is coming. We’ve played this game before. Last time it never came to a conclusion, my toy stolen before it broke. He’ll be stronger for it, harder to crack, yet he must also fear what will happen. I can use that, ‘knowledge is power’ they say. And right now I’m holding all the keys, all I have to do is fit them into the right lock.

And this time hopefully I will get to finish what I’m about to start.


	2. Fragmentation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vortex always keeps his promises...

"Are you actually going to do anything?" The voice that interrupted my vigil was neither welcome nor appreciated.

"I am doing something." I replied, not moving my optics from the security camera I am watching.

"You've had the prisoner for eight planetary cycles and you have nothing to show for it, we need results."

"And you'll get your results, these things take time." I finally turned to look at the Air Commander as he stood behind me, wings twitching with annoyance and that pit spawned superior look on his faceplates. How I would love to wipe that smirk away.

"Just hurry up with it." Starscream said as moved over to a different monitor and settled down.

I snarled at him as soon as he turned his back. Hurry up indeed. Hurrying up would end all my careful preparations.

Turning back to the camera I regard the two mechs within its view with a critical optic. The prisoner, exactly where he’s been since we caught him, and Swindle as he circles the Autobot, half his attention focussed on asking questions the other half on the datapad in his hand that I just know contains nothing to do with what he is meant to be doing. It’s a good thing he’s only in there to stop the Autobot from getting any decent recharge or I’d beat him to a slag for such negligence.

A quick message down our gestalt bond has him tearing out of the cell like he was the prisoner as I step out of the room I have appropriated for all my monitoring equipment and make my way to the prison block.

Letting myself into the cell I move over to the Autobot hanging limply in the restraints. That wouldn't do.

Running my hand over his chassis I felt the mech start to stir out of the recharge that he had already started to enter.

"Hello again Mirage." I cheerfully greeted the noble as his systems sluggishly booted up.

The lack of recharge was starting to show as he shuttered his optics several times, the orange glow much duller than normal.

"And how are you this morning? Feeling any better?" I gained no answer for my troubles, but then I didn't expect to. We've been playing this game for the full eight cycles he's been here.

I ask questions, some he answers, some he doesn't. I don't mind. I don’t actually want the answers. I just need to keep him off balance, uncertain and confused, and when I go to recharge one of my gestalt take over. Without recharge he can't defragment his memory drives, his processor will be getting more and more confused by fragmented code, more susceptible to suggestions and coercion.

"Decided to reconsider answering some of my questions?"

I prod him gently with a pede when no response is forthcoming. His attention snaps back to me as I repeat my inquiry.

"No." He says before his gaze starts to wander again.

"Pity." I said as I remove an energon cube from my subspace and take a casual sip. I smile when his attention returns to me briefly before he shutters his optics, turning his head away with a soft whine. Returning the cube to the subspace pocket I retrieved it from I step closer to the mech.

I've been keeping him fuelled just enough to stay online, but it's time to change my game.

Yes. Time indeed. I can see that he is barely focussing on me, the lack of recharge and fuel finally taking its toll. And the additional systems I have turned off must be adding to his confusion. The internal chronometer is an obvious thing to disable, without it he must have no idea how long he has been here, time blurring into one long agony.

But some of the other things I have disabled are not usually turned off for interrogations, most mechs want there victims to know who is hurting them. But I find it is the fear off the unknown which increases the receptiveness of a mech to my thoughts and ideals. A simple trick; face them away from the door and turn off the Identity Friend/Foe beacon. Every time the door opens there will be the added uncertainty of not knowing who has entered.

Gently removing a small section of his armour from his shoulder, a small flinch being the only response to my actions, I quickly locate one of his main energon lines. Taking a small syringe from my subspace I empty its contents into his system.

The effect is almost instantaneous, his optics brighten as the drug makes its way through his energon lines and depleted tank and hits his spark.

"There, that’s much better isn't it?" I croon as he twitches, his face nuzzling into my hand when I stroke a cheekplate.

My poor poor pet. With his gyro stabilisers disabled, his processor foggy and now an infusion of condensed energon and metal minerals inside him he won't know up from down. I'm probably the only solid reference he has to hang on to.

"Shhhhhh." I sooth as he trembles slightly, holding him in a light embrace. "It's okay." I know he can hear me. I've been speaking to him for the last eight cycles; his processor should recognise my voice. "Everything will be okay."

"Home?" He pleads, vocaliser filled with static as he stares at me without any understanding of who I am.

"I'll take you home. I promise. I just need to know where it is."

"Arc." He replies as he rests his head on my shoulder.

I smile down at the compliant Autobot. "And where's the Arc?"

"Mountain."

"Okay, I'll take you there, I'll take you home." My arms tighten slightly, one hand slowly rubbing circles on his backplate, soothing, comforting. "Can you tell me how to get in to the Arc? I can't take you home if I don't know how to get in."

"In?" he asks with a frown. "Door."

"Okay." I let my hand roam further, smoothing over plates, "you don't want them to see you coming home like this do you?"

“No?” His reply is uncertain, phrased as a question as he raises his head from my shoulder, bright optics staring at me as the internal mechanisms within them strain to bring me into focus.

“Of course you don’t.” I reassure him, stroking a hand over his cheek plates. “Will you let me connect? I need to see where we need to go so I can take you home.” I run several fingers over one of his dataports, the light touch a parody of a lovers caress.

There is no verbal answer but a quiet click as his panelling unlocks and slides back. I can feel my smile turn predatory. Opening the subroutines himself will have disabled a large portion of his firewalls that otherwise I would have had to fight my way past. And I’ve been caught by Jazz created firewalls before; he codes some nasty things into his agents to stop exactly what I am planning to do.

I connect my cable, not bothering for now to complete the loop. I want to be inside his processor, not have a half high, half drunk mech in mine.

:There we go.: I keep my tone even as I skilfully push my consciousness past several deactivated firewalls, bits of broken coding and fragmented data flowing around me. This is what Starscream didn’t understand, he would have forced the connection as soon as we caught him skulking around, giving Mirage plenty of time to throw up extra defences and make it nigh impossible to find anything. But I had entered with his consent, or at least, with what his base programming associated as consent. All those nasty viral codes that should be insinuating themselves into my processor are dormant, my presence marked as that of a lover not an invader.

:Now, tell me again where I can find the door to the Arc?:

I frowned as several image captures of the landscape surrounding the Arc flowed past me.

:Come on Mirage,: I coaxed, :I promise to get you back but I need your help.: I tightened my physical embrace, a move his foggy processor interpreted as a protective gesture as he flagged a large file as important. I copied the contents to my processor, scanning it for viral infections before opening it. A quick glance showed it to be the schematics of the Arc, all the entrances, both official and not, clearly labelled.

:There we go, that’s it.: I praised, letting my thanks bleed through the link. :Can you tell me the codes so we can get in?:

I flinched as a veritable flood of passwords and security tags were presented to me. :That’s good. But I need the last ones. We can’t go home with last years codes.:

The flow slowed as I repeated that I needed the newest codes.

:Good. That’s it.: I stored the data he was providing in my memory banks, I’d go through them in detail later, although it was unlikely any of them would be useful, the Autobot security chief is even more paranoid than Breakdown and that’s saying something.

I could feel the fog in his processor starting to clear, slowly but surely, clarity returning to the data flowing around my intrusion, time to leave. I backed out of his processor, but not without leaving several extra chunks of data, images of Autobot attacks and atrocities. His processor will automatically assimilate all the loose data as soon as he next recharges, including the extra that I have just left, unless he finds it and deletes it soon enough.

Unhooking my data cable I smile down at the noble who is still resting his helm on my shoulder. He blinks at me blearily as I remove what’s left of my energon cube from subspace and hold it to his mouth. He drinks it without seeming to mind that he’s being fed like a sparkling.

“We nearly home?” He asks softly as he lets his helm droop, optic shutters already closed as he hangs limply in his restraints.

Reaching up to the still exposed energon line I quickly inject him with a sedative to remove the last effects of the previous drug and to send him offline before he can come back to himself and run any self diagnostics.

“Aye, nearly home, I promise.” I whisper near his audial receptor as his systems power down into a deep recharge.

Running my hand over his face one last time I smile again, my mouthplates curving up into a victorious grin as I slip out of the cell and back to the prison security centre.

"You've finished and all you have to show for it is a few codes that have probably already been replaced." Starscream says derisively as I enter the room and make my way over to the camera.

"Finished?" I twist round to sneer at the jet. "I've barely begun. By the time I am finished he will belong to the Decepticons, chassis and processor.”

A rather morbid chuckle cuts off Starscream’s response as Megatron makes his presence known from the corner of the room where he had been observing our interaction. I tilt my head at the Warlord and receive a quirk of a faceplate in response; he understands what I am planning. "Good work Vortex. Continue as you are." He nods at me before gesturing for Starscream to accompany him as he moves towards the door.

I grin as I turn back to the screen showing my pet still slumped in his bonds. Ignoring Megatron as he stalks out, the snivelling jet following him like a shadow, I raise a hand towards the image, fingers ghosting over the tantalising picture. Yes. He will belong to me.

And that is a promise that I do not intend to break.

He will be my Mirage.


	3. Consolidation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Vortex, some things are worth any wait.

“So you are a Decepticon. I knew it!” the Autobot was stood with his hands clenched as he glared through the bars of his cell.

I smirked at the minibot in the cell. If there was any better way to reinforce my indoctrination, I didn’t know it. I felt Mirage step behind me, one hand resting lightly on my back as he took refuge from the irate Autobot.

“Yes, and wasn’t he good at playing his role?” I taunted. Fool Autobot would believe anything I told him.

The minibot gave a static burst of disgust. “I noticed.”

“Pity Prime didn’t believe you.” I returned as I moved my attention back to the mech behind me. I could feel him shaking through the contact we had. Time to leave.

“Come on ‘Raj.” I urged as I looped an arm around his back, guiding him to the exit, the minibot cursing us in the background.

“Why can’t I remember?” He asked as soon as the door to our quarters slid shut, his arms wrapping around me as he shivered.

I revved my engine as I returned the embrace, raising my core temperature so he would be more comfortable. “Because the Autobots are incompetent fools who tried to reprogram you but only did half the job.”

He didn’t respond verbally, instead resting his helm on my shoulder, vents gusting warm air across my chassis as I held him.

“It’s all so mixed up.” He said as he shuttered his optics, his vocaliser hitching in a sob as he huddled closer. “I sometimes wake up thinking I’m an Autobot, that you are my enemy. I don’t know who I am ‘Tex.”

“I know” I crooned as I stroked a hand down his helm, “I won’t let you go.”

He was silent for a long moment. “I can’t even remember you.” He admitted in a whisper. “I want to know what I’m missing.” One of his hands reached up to my helm, fingers ghosting over my cheekplates. “Will you give me new memories to replace those I’ve lost?”

I would not turn down what I have been wanting for so long. I know some think I am a fool for such a wait, but will this not be so much better for knowing it has been freely offered? I trace the purple emblem etched onto his chestplates with a smile. “Of course I will.”


End file.
